


Teeth

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Andrea and Lena, BDSM, Bratty Andrea, Bratty Andrea Rojas, Corporal Punishment, Daddy Dom Lena Luthor, Daddy Lena, Daddy Lena Luthor, F/F, Fisting, Lena and Andrea, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Lesbian Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Punishment, Situational Humiliation, Size Queen Andrea, Smut, Spanking, Sub Andrea Rojas, Verbal Humiliation, bottom andrea rojas, brat taming, lesbian bdsm, lesbian smut, lesbian story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25466335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Prompt: Bottom Andrea being punished by Lena for being sassy with Lena at work. As filthy as imaginable. Daddy kink, humiliation, spanking. Like I said filthy. Size Queen Andrea.*OR*Andrea is just itching to be put back in her place despite her own reticence for being out of control, Lena is the only woman who can be trusted with such a task. Daddy always gets results, after all.
Relationships: Lena Luthor & Andrea Rojas, Lena Luthor/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 218





	Teeth

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Lena hummed with a disinterested tone as she went over the paperwork on the meeting table, aware she was being watched and unbothered by it.

There was a movement, a shadow, a figure lurking pensively unsure of what to say. It was nothing new. Andrea always was far more earnest and human when they were alone together. Lena empathised, yet still she did not approve of the charades that got them into this mess with one another. Their businesses were separate, their intentions and successes were supposed to be aligned. This was the order of things, or at least it was _supposed_ to be.

“Lena—”

“Try again,” Lena interrupted softly, her acute gaze never breaking from the spreadsheets and numbers scattered everywhere. It made the lurker shrivel nervously.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Andrea whispered with a delectable sense of shame in her voice. Lena smiled slightly, drumming her fingers on the table as she waited for the inevitable. “I’m sorry you perceived—”

“Nope. Try again,” Lena interrupted once more.

“I’m sorry I undermined you.”

“Much better,” Lena tisked and ran her tongue around her teeth. “Underwear off, bend over my desk and wait there until I’m finished looking over the mess you caused today for L-Corp share prices.”

There was a long, weighty pause.

“Yes Daddy,” Andrea forced it through her teeth.

“And Andrea?” Lena briefly glanced over her shoulder, stern green eyes gleaning her up and down.

“Yes Daddy?” Andrea swallowed harder.

“Put those fucking panties in your mouth, I don’t want to hear a peep from you.”

Andrea stood there dumbly, as though she were stuck in her processes, aware that it would be horrifically degrading and yet turned on despite herself. Lena gave her no more than a second to make a decision of her own volition, a moment later she removed her belt, bunched it in a fistful of leather, and rapped it against the meeting table. It startled Andrea back into her body, and Lena watched on with approval as slender legs stepped out of black lacy panties and plump lips reluctantly gobbled them in a bite.

A common misconception about Lena Luthor was that she were a frantic woman, dictated by impulse. Andrea knew all too well that this was not the truth. Andra bent over the desk with her belly pushed against the glass, cheek to the surface, hands spreading her ass until she was spared no dignity. 

Lena left her there for what felt like an eternity, and all the troublemaker could do in the silence was process through her anxieties like a long list of books she had meant to get round to reading but… something had always gotten in the way.

Lena Luthor was perhaps the only person in the world who understood that about her. The vitriol, the charade, the bitch-complex, it was just a means to an end to get through the work day when something else was gnawing away at her. The most humiliating aspect of their games was always the long period of silence that predicated the games themselves, as though Andrea were a naughty little girl who needed to sit with her thoughts until _Daddy_ said otherwise.

It was usually just mundane stresses that had accumulated like dust on the bookshelf of her otherwise ordered mind, sometimes it was a singular issue, but Lena never failed to right the situation with her bare hands and teeth. Andrea rarely overtly enjoyed it; medicine rarely tasted sweet on the way down, but Lena got results, and that was that.

Andrea’s eyes drifted from the window to the clock and back again, occasionally to the brooder hung over the meeting table, though her stare didn’t dare to linger there too long for fear of being caught. An hour passed, then another thirty minutes, and despite her sore legs and dry tongue against the material of her panties, she knew she would keep her position until tomorrow morning if necessary. 

The state of subspace was less of a safe haven for Andrea, more of a tiny stuffy cupboard beneath the stairs that Daddy locked her inside of from time to time for her own good. It wasn’t a place she felt comfortable—a place she liked to spend her time on her own terms—truth be told she found the whole thing embarrassing beyond words. But when Lena dropped her immaculate voice into that tone that was so… _Daddy_. Andrea felt powerless to disobey.

“My, my.” Clicking footsteps stirred Andrea back to reality. “It’s hard to take you quite so seriously when you’re spread over my desk like a brunch for two.”

Andrea closed her eyes and sucked a hard breath, humiliated and chewing her back teeth. Daddy knew what she was doing, the confliction she was creating, but she just laughed that small heartless laugh as though it were all inconsequential. Andrea could see her facial expression in her mind’s eye: a thin crimson smirk, wicked emerald slits for eyes, pearly white teeth slipping over the edge of one another. She groaned, not because she was aroused but because she was utterly embarrassed.

A hand grabbed a fistful of her dark softly-waved hair. Andrea’s throat became long and taut, her throat rocking, and Daddy’s green eyes became inescapable.

“Do you remember what happened the night you came back with your boyfriend during finals week and… disrupted my studying?” Andrea closed her eyes, because of course she remembered. “Refresh my memory, Andrea.”

“You know what happened Daddy,” Andrea whispered up at Lena.

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“After he left you spanked me until I cried and made me study morning, noon, and night until my exams were over.”

“And what did you do?” Lena flexed her jaw slightly.

Here it was, Andrea thought. The truth she couldn’t escape from despite her rigidness, despite her need to be unconquerable. She inhaled a breath too big for her lungs and looked at Lena as though she were the only authority in the universe she would ever willingly bend the knee to, when it came down to the wire at least.

“I thanked you, Daddy.” She couldn’t bare to look the other woman in the eyes. “And I asked for more.”

“Yes you did.” Lena released her grip and pushed Andrea back down, palm ghosting along her spine and then pressing into the bottom of her back. “You’re never too big or too tough to be put back in your place, little girl, don’t ever underestimate me…”

Andrea stifled a groan in her throat, let it burn and die all at once because the most humiliating thing of all would be to give off any symptom that she still _needed_ this. Yet, need it she did. They both knew it, but Daddy didn’t press or scold, and Andrea counted her lucky stars for the small mercy.

For a brief moment at least.

She had been nineteen years old the first time Lena struck her bottom with a belt, and some fifteen years later the sensation was still not something that could be acclimated too. 

When Daddy hit her trembling backside she always struck as though she meant it, tonight was no different, it was as though there were nothing else in Lena’s mind beyond the black and white, and what was right in front of her. There was no warm up, no soft strokes of palm pressing against her sore flinching bottom, there was merely the act of being punished and offering regret in return. Andrea always played her part, the first strike drew her high-pitched cry the same way it always did.

“Oh I am going to give you something to cry about don’t you worry!” Lena scolded, every word enunciated and pristine in her mouth as her arm swung down in thwacks and snapping strikes. “What did I tell you the last time you stepped out of line, Andrea?”

The palm pressing down into the bottom of her spine prevented escape. Andrea instinctively tried anyway. Her hands shot over the surface of the desk, gripped the other edge, and she pulled with all her strength in some small attempt to leverage herself over the top. 

Daddy was never going to allow that, and so the palm pressed deep into her back, a foot hooked around Andrea’s ankle locking them in place so that she would have to get over Daddy’s hip first, and all the little troublemaker could do was slip inwards and allow her resolve to fracture with tiny drips down her cheeks.

“What did Daddy tell you?” Lena struck so hard the welt formed instantaneously.

“That if I undermined you this would happen, Daddy,” Andrea choked and felt her body melt bonelessly against the wood beneath her belly. “I’m. I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Did you step out of line because you wanted this, Andrea?” Daddy had her suspicions.

“Yes Daddy,” Andrea choked and closed her eyes, repulsed with herself. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

There was no longer reluctance, Andrea’s body softened into flinches and instinctive jolts. When the tears came like a burst riverbank, pouring and rushing, that was when Daddy gave some small measure of sympathy. 

The strikes ceased, fingers pressed and smoothed down her aching bottom, it was not much but Andrea snatched it gratefully. Lena’s thigh had found its way between her legs, the side of her hip pressing into Andrea’s belly for leverage, and the safe shape of Daddy made for solid ground. She leaned against Lena, wept into her, clung to her, swaddled herself in the safe smell of her perfume.

“I’m sorry,” Andrea repeated quietly, her voice high and shaky. “I. I—” Daddy’s hand stroked her long dark hair, moving it, entwining it around her fingers, and that made Andrea cry anew. “I won’t do it again, Daddy.”

“You need a little relief?” Andrea closed her eyes and nodded at the question, too vulnerable to pretend she didn’t want what was coming. “Your bottom or your drippy little cunt?” Lena uttered it so softly as though there were no vulgarity.

“You decide, Daddy,” Andrea whispered and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her round bottom up and out in search of… absolutely anything that could distract her from the throbbing ache of her backside.

From where they were positioned, Lena leaned against her desk with a sorry little brat curled over her hip, thighs spread and stuck on her very tippy-toes. Andrea’s hand held Lena’s other knee so tight, as though Daddy needed to be felt, clung to, never let go of for a second lest she float away. Lena just paused for a moment and stroked her spine, hushing and simultaneously appreciating the sight.

Andrea was a gloriously shaped woman, as though God had poured her into that perfect body and turned away for just a moment too long — spilling a little of her over the sides for good measure. Lena grabbed her and held her close, pressed her thigh deeper into her hot slick cunt, stole her perfect thick thighs in snatches and fistfuls while Andrea did little but moan and cling for comfort.

“Hold on tight princess,” Lena whispered throatily beneath her breath, stroking her bruised bottom and then slipping between her soft thighs to swipe through her cunt.

Andrea had once teased her about the all black suit and starched collars, said that Lena looked as though she were going to a funeral or maybe an Irish wake. Lena smirked at the joke now, she was indeed attending someone’s funeral — although there would be no grief or tears on her end at least. Lena slipped her arm around Andrea’s spine and waist, holding her close and just so while the other did wonderful and terrible things that stole the air from her chest.

“Daddy!” Andrea tried to back her hips down on to the two fingers teasing her vulva and lips, positively shaking as they smoothed up and around her clitoris. “Oh. _Oh God_ ,” Andrea whispered and melted.

“There’s a good girl, much better behaviour.” Lena used that stern, deepened voice that made her girl weak at the knees. “Up on your tippy-toes, hold on to my waist, push your bottom out and look pretty for me. There we go…” Lena rewarded the obedience with a hard deep push inside her cunt.

“It feels amazing,” Andrea murmured throatily, her breath stilting as two fingers with fifteen years of hands-on experience curled into that perfect, nerve-snapping spot. “We—we shouldn’t, Daddy, you know what happens when we do this…” Andrea grew nervous and stuck in her own head.

“You get too greedy and feel embarrassed in the morning?” Lena cooed, the arm wrapped around her little troublemaker’s hips tightening imperceptibly to stop her going anywhere.

“Yes Daddy,” Andrea broke with humiliation.

Lena smirked. She felt a storm brew inside of herself, swirling and building and colliding with all the filthy things they had done before together — things that were still to be done too. Oh, there would be a dozen more years of this, two dozen even. Andrea was beyond irritating, the kind of irritating that didn’t just get under the skin but soaked in the bone marrow too. She was a special kind of cancer. A metaphorical tumour. A pain that Lena would never escape and yet simultaneously could not imagine her life without. She didn’t even want to begin to try.

“Why don’t you remind me of some of those filthy things you’ve asked for and felt embarrassed about the next morning…” Lena curled deep into that spot and rubbed it fervently, felt the walls cling and suck her fingers greedily for more. “Good girl, there you go, just make your lungs be lungs again and tell me what I want to hear…”

“Daddy I can’t say,” Andrea choked out the words and clung to Lena’s waist.

“You can and you will, tell me those filthy things you like that fucking eat you up inside.”

“When you bite my nipples.” Andrea sucked in a huge breath, red in the face. “When you spit on me. When you fucked me in the board room with the door cracked open so I couldn’t make a sound. When you…” Andrea broke down and couldn’t admit the biggest one of all, the filthy thing she loved above all other vices. It completely devoured her from the inside out just to think about it.

“You better spit it out before I spit on you,” Lena growled.

She fucked her deeper, fingers twisting and scissoring her hot wet cunt into the kind of slick noises that would make angels cover their ears.

“When you fist me Daddy… when you do more than fist me…” Andrea backed her hips down until Lena’s knuckles couldn’t give anymore. “Please, Daddy,” she whispered for the one thing she hated to ask for.

Lena kept her just so for a moment, as though she hadn’t heard, but she indeed had. Lena basked in the desperation, fucked her little brat and grabbed every perfect thick curve, smoothed them, worshipped them, grinned from ear-to-ear when Andrea’s cunt clenched and fucked her fingers in dire need of more.

“Please Daddy,” Andrea murmured again, as though departing a secret she was keeping even from herself. “You… you know what I want.”

“I don’t believe I do.”

“Daddy.” Andrea looked up at her with those huge blue eyes flecked with green. In Lena’s mind, she would always be that reckless little girl who needed authority, twenty-five, thirty-five, it never changed. “Please don’t make me say it. I… I can’t do that.” Her eyes pearled, a confliction in desperate need of her Daddy.

Lena fixed a grimace and spat on her face, right on her mouth, caught her with precision that surprised even the big boss herself. Andrea’s eyes lit up like sapphire, widening and fixating with utter submission.

“Thank you Daddy,” Andrea whispered and relaxed.

Lena transfigured. The desk was cleared of its contents with a swipe, the keyboard and the coffee mug, everything toppling and crashing to the ground. Lena buried her girl up and over the desk, pushed and positioned her just right until the bratty little troublemaker’s bottom hung off the edge, legs slack and spine vaulting with her breaths.

“ _Thank you Daddy_.”

Her cunt was so tight, always suffocatingly tiny, when three fingers slipped inside it was as though Andrea were little more than a receptacle to take whatever Daddy saw fit to give her whether she were built for the job or not. It ached, it stretched her, and despite her own fear of being caught Andrea couldn’t stop herself.

“ _Thank you Daddy_ ,” she husked, a woman now on fire. “Thank you Daddy, thank you, thank you—” Two mottled eyes snapped open, and a fourth finger forced its way inside.

“You are a dirty, disgusting, filthy little bitch.” Lena slipped in and out, slowly, her knuckles forcing her opening to flex and stretch. “And you deserve everything you have ever wanted without shame or justification.” The tip of a thumb pressed gently.

Andrea went slack. Her gorgeous soft thighs spread and dangling off the edge, her hands pressed limp against the desk, quiet as a mouse as though the lights were on but no one was home. Lena knew better. Andrea was in there alright, floating, bobbing, slipping inwards to the place where right and wrong simply held no significance over her. 

Lena leaned down and licked up along her gleaming spine, french kissed her shoulderblade, and when the thumb pressed all the way inside her cunt and stole the air from her chest, a sharp hard bite on the top of her shoulder distracted from the burn.

“Daddy,” Andrea gasped quietly, huffing and unable to articulate herself. “ _Daddy_.” It became the only word she knew.

“Does it feel nice princess?” Lena crooned and let her adjust for a moment, she hissed slightly as walls sucked her fist tighter and deeper.

Andrea was vanilla, or at least that’s what she told boyfriends. Lena was the only person who knew the truth, who she could share this wonderful freedom with. It hurt, it ached, and it made her feel vulnerable beyond words for how much she _liked_ it for those reasons. Daddy knew exactly how to hold her, how to twist her knuckles just a tiny bit to make her squirm with flutters and aches. It burned and it was bliss, all at once.

Privately, Andrea never felt safer or more alive than she did when Daddy was filling her up and stretching her out. She didn’t know how to enjoy pleasure in the absence of herself unless forced to that space. As Jackie Kennedy once famously said, ‘Sex is a bad thing because it rumples the clothes.’ Andrea deeply felt the former first lady had kept silent on being fisted over very important desks for damn good reason. _It was wonderful._

“Daddy!” Andrea grew stiff and aware of herself. “No, no, no—” A thumb traced and pressed against her quivering asshole.

“Does no mean no?” Lena pulled her thumb off. “Or are you just being a nervous little baby?”

Andrea laughed a soft, genuine, wholly giddy noise. “It…” She exhaled hard as the fist in her cunt twisted a tiny bit, relighting her fire. “It means be careful Daddy.” She glanced at Lena’s glittering, sparkling eyes.

“Listen to me.” Lena pressed her thumb to the gleaming, slick little asshole twitching beneath her touch. “I will always, _always_ , be gentle with you in the ways that mean something to you.” She began to press inside.

“Oh fuck!” Andrea gasped and grew stiff, full and desperate to be fuller.

“Or that too, whatever works.” Lena craned down and pecked her bottom, her hands working in tandem as though she were expert in an instrument nobody else knew how to play. “Big breath for me…”

Andrea inhaled and held it.

“Good girl, there’s a good girl. Exhale,” Lena instructed. “Another breath.”

Andrea inhaled, held it for a moment, then let it go. When the air pushed out of her lungs, Daddy slipped inside her bottom a bit deeper.

“Such a good, good, girl,” Lena whispered, her breath grazing and tickling her cunt lips. “Tell me how it feels…”

“Like I can’t think about anything else but what you’re doing Daddy…”

“Well.” Lena pressed another kiss to her bottom, pecked the inside of her thigh, fucked her ass with her thumb and let her fist earn whimpers. “For women like us that sounds like a particularly delicious pleasure, doesn’t it?”

“Yes Daddy,” Andrea huffed and gently rocked her hips. “It’s wonderful, I. I feel. I can’t describe it.”

“Your hips are doing a lot of talking, just let them take everything they want. _Daddy’s got you_ —” The words sent Andrea’s hips forcing backwards for more.

From where Lena crouched, there wasn’t a more beautiful sight to see. Those gorgeous tanned thighs, so soft and thick and trembling. Her hand disappeared at the wrist, deep and snug inside the clenching bratty one. 

Time passed, and passed, and passed some more, though nobody kept track. When Andrea mustered the courage and asked how many fingers were inside her bottom, Lena lied and told her two. She had in fact taken three, was on the cusp of four, and Lena knew Andrea’s self loathing wouldn’t survive it in the morning if she was given the facts. She was stretched, slack, dripping, and ripe for the taking. Lena didn’t take anything though, she just simply gave until there was little more to offer.

“Daddy I’m going to cum,” Andrea yelped out of nowhere and pushed her hips back, again and again, bouncing herself off the edge of the desk. “Please… please can I?”

“You better be loud and filthy, don’t you hide a single bit of it from me. You’re a _whore_ and I love that about you—” Lena pushed in and out slightly, her hands working in rhythm, fingers in her backside then a fist in her cunt, one after another. “Good girl, oh there’s a good little girl,” Lena growled as the brat got boisterous.

She came like a natural disaster, an act of god, a whirlwind so mighty that it was an impossible task for one woman to contain it. Lena did her best, fucked her anyway, leaned her weight over her spine while Andrea screamed and writhed and had her fill.

“Daddy,” Andrea sobbed hard, hideous, cathartic tears. “Daddy I have another inside me—”

‘Then cum again,” Lena growled and bit her shoulder, releasing it quickly. “You keep cumming until it hurts, until you can’t give me anymore, you’re clenching so good on me princess.”

When Andrea was spent, anyone without the full-context would have assumed something had gone terribly wrong. She was sobbing, really sobbing, the kind of cry that cracks the ribs and scalds the throat. When Lena lifted up and took her weight off of Andrea’s spine, she whimpered and ouched from the movement inside her body. She was sensitive, she was aching, and her twitching cunt muscles were fighting a war with her.

“Daddy don’t move it hurts,” Andrea rushed the words out of her chest.

“I know, I know princess,” Lena hushed and concerned herself only with service. “Daddy’s got you, I’ll be gentle. You tell me when you’re ready. Take a big breath for me.”

Andrea inhaled, then released. Inhaled, released. Allowed the mechanical functions of her body to fall down to Daddy’s guidance. Lena made sure she was relaxed, that she was okay, kissed her back and brought her down from the clouds gently. The cunt snug on her wrist sucked and clenched and fluttered, the puffy asshole eating her fingers suddenly bearing and pushing too.

“Breathe,” Lena whispered and slipped her fingers out on the exhale. “There we go, you look so pretty when your bottom is winking and twitching,” she whispered against the back of her ear.

“Be gentle with your fist, please, don’t.” Andrea huffed, lost and found all at once. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Have I ever?”

“No Daddy.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, just breathe.” Lena gently brought her fist out on the long exhale, pausing when all the air had escaped. “I know, I know you’re sensitive. Breathe again. There we go—” She finally finished the task and slipped out completely.

“Daddy…” Andrea blinked and closed her eyes. “Thank you, for tonight, for all of it. _Thank you Daddy_.”

“I’m going to call a town car, we’re going to eat some food and take a bath and go to sleep in my bed,” Lena craned over her perfect little brat and scooped her up. “You’re my problem tonight.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” Andrea said. It made Lena laugh, she was coming back to herself alright.

“I know you don’t need it,” Lena promised. “I need it. I need you with me tonight. I want to hold you and pretend we’re idiot teenagers for a while, give me that much?”

Andrea pushed a long exhale and closed her eyes, exhausted.

“Well,” she murmured. “That sounds nice too, Daddy.”

[Find more of my stuff along with my rudimentary plans for lesbian space exploration and permanent colonisation HERE!](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


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